


First Dates Never Run Smoothly

by CompanionToMisterHolmes



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Awkwardness, F/M, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, awkward first date, first date nerves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 22:49:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/715970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CompanionToMisterHolmes/pseuds/CompanionToMisterHolmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for two separate prompt fills on Tumblr, thought I should put them together and give my account some Molstarde love :)</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. First Date Jitters

**Author's Note:**

> Written for two separate prompt fills on Tumblr, thought I should put them together and give my account some Molstarde love :)

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shhhhittt, shit, shit…”

Molly Anne Hooper wasn’t one to swear, but this was a special occasion. The rather gorgeous Detective Inspector Lestrade had asked her out last week, this was incredibly unexpected to Molly and now as the evening approached, _‘THIS EVENING’_ Molly screamed internally, she had nothing to wear and her best friend Meena critiquing each outfit she tried on as she noticed Molly’s ever growing nerves.

“Molly it’s as if this was unexpected to you…”

“Meena, this is incredibly unexpected… The man is handsome and smart and brilliant, and a Detective Inspector, and I’m me, frumpy and mousey and currently shaking!”

“You really can be quite blind without your glasses Molly, you're  brilliant and beautiful, and every person at work and the pub has seen his jaw drop when you walk in, or the moment it takes to compose himself in your presence. He’s meant to be all confident and suave…”

“And he is.”

“… Stop interrupting, he isn’t around you, he mutters and mumbles and even stutters the way you used to around Sherlock.”

Molly glanced out from behind the curtain, still not sure about the formfitting purple dress, she feels she only just managed to squeeze into. “… Really?!”

“Yes, Molls, really! Now let me see you, you’ve only got two hours until you meet him, and this boutique only has so many dresses.”

Molly wandered out into the mirrored room where Meena sat, smoothing down the fabric over her hips and a nervous twitch in her smile. “Molly, that’s it, you look stunning… I would pay good money to see his face and his struggle to speak, when you walk up to him dressed in that!”

“You sure, you’re not just saying that because we’ve been here for three hours are you?”

“No, I’m not, although I’m sure that factors into the decision somewhat. Then again, you could wear a bin bag and it would take four people to pick his jaw up from the floor.”

* * *

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shhhhittt, shit, shit… Bloody, fecking SHIT!”

Greg Daniel Lestrade was one for swearing, with his high pressure job and his ex-wife, it was difficult not to be accustomed to profanity. He’d asked out Molly Hooper just last week, after wanting to since his divorce had been finalised over 2 months ago. It was difficult not to panic after seeing her at John’s Christmas party, she was stupidly out his his league, a Doctor none the less, smart, adorably funny, sexy and brilliant.

“Greg, it’s a date, why are you shaking?”

“John, it’s Molly Hooper, of course I’m bloody shaking! You have seen her right… I’m amazed you never asked her out.”

“I never asked her out mate, because 1) until recently she was quite forgetful with my name and 2) I saw the way you looked at her… And I’m not in the business of treading on people’s toes.”

“Yeah, well thanks, I’m pretty sure, given the choice, most women would chose you over me, I mean a divorcee Detective Inspector, with awful hours and an even worse ex-wife.”

“Or me, the ex-army surgeon, with an overall awful job and a therapist. I’m amazed we’re not fighting them off, eh?”

As John nudged Greg in the ribs playfully Greg thought of how unlikely that was, and the pure miracle it was Molly had agreed to a date, even if it was a pity date… His face must have mirrored his thoughts, or time spent around Sherlock and his therapist had boosted John’s mind reading capability.

“For goodness sake, mate, it’s not a pity date… She’s probably just as worried as you are, I mean I’ve spoken to Meena and let’s just say there is mutual disbelief about this date happening.”

“Fine, fine. I believe you, but it doesn’t stop me being nervous… I hate to sound like a stereotypical woman, but I have no idea what to wear.”

John slowly shook his head from side to side, how did this, for lack of a better word, ‘bloke’ in front of him become a shaking mess… ‘ _I suppose my first date with Mary had very much the same nervous preparation, but I’m not telling him that_.’

* * *

Having finally decided upon a simple grey suite, a black dress shirt and a skinny grey tie, Greg stood confidently outside the bistro where he was to meet Molly.

That confidence soon dissipated, as through the autumn chill, in delicate heels and a coat that accentuated her figure, but was left open to reveal the knee length purple number that accentuated it even more, walked the petite pathologist he’d been mooning after for months.

The second she got close enough to fully see the Detective Inspector her mouth became dry and the nerves she’d managed to push down over the last hour bubbled back up to the surface.

Both of them seemed surprisingly interested in their shoes as they came within kissing distance, taking sneaky appreciative glances at each other, one such glance leaving them both facing each other, eyes locked and internally blaming their shaking upon the cool autumnal breeze.

First to break the silence was Molly, carefully whispering a sweet “Hi”.

Replying with an equally quiet “Hi”, that only the two of them could hear, Greg was lost for any other words, wondering if it were possible to go a whole evening in stunned silent awe.

 


	2. Silence, Sherlock’s, Stumbles and Spills.

“So, umm… Do you want to go in? The maitre’d is looking at us a little funny.” 

It had felt like forever that the comfortable silence had settled around them, it covered them in a blanket of near bliss as their gazes spoke louder than any words either could conjure. Although, if Molly hadn’t broken the peace between them, Greg just knew that the following words would have fallen helplessly from his brain,  _‘Jesus, you’re gorgeous, and that colour palette fully compliments your completion and brings emphasis to all the right places, and your eyes. Wow.You’re certainly an Autumn.’_ (He really needed to spend less time gossiping with Mrs. Hudson in the midst of Sherlock heavy cases, as after hearing everything of ‘Mrs Turner’s married ones’ he would get a break down of the latest styles and seasonal colours from Connie Price’s younger successor, he hadn’t noticed it going in but the objective eye that flew over Molly’s clothes, and his appreciation of the woman within them a secondary thought, suggested otherwise.)

“Yeah, I suppose we should, I think he’s scared our presence in the doorway is deterring custom.” 

“Now I don’t see how a handsome man in their doorway will deter custom. You would certainly entice me.”  _Oh, god that sounded so much better in my head_. “Oh, umm… That came out wrong, not that you’re not handsome, because you are, but, well, umm… I don’t choose my restaurants based on the handsomeness of the customer. Oh, ummm… I don’t suppose we could go in and ignore that little rambled outburst?”

“I’m not sure I can, Miss Hooper. I mean it’s not everyday a beautiful woman calls me handsome.” 

“Beautiful? Are you sure?” 

“If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have freaked out so much that you said you’d go out with me.

* * *

Molly was stunned as they walked into the restaurant, she was the one who had freaked out, the DI beside her was meant to be calm and collected and most certainly, if he had any sense, wouldn’t have thought her beautiful. Then again maybe she needed a man with a little less sense and sensibility, someone with her senseless humour or a job that kept her same odd hours. 

They were sat at an intimate candlelit table, a perfect distance apart for their feet to innocently brush past shins, but Molly cursed the low visibility, knowing the think rimmed glasses that usually lay dormant in her bag may have to adorn her features at some point, lest she spill something or everything.

* * *

The conversation between the two had fallen into the almost dangerous territory of the morgue. Although, Greg was more familiar with Molly’s work, it had I no way deterred him from the woman sat opposite, her passion for the puzzle had even enticed him, yet it wasn’t necessarily appropriate dinner conversation.

To his relief the moment passed quickly, as Molly began to fumble in her ‘probably to big for a date’ bag. 

“Molls, are you looking for something?” 

“Oh, yeah, two seconds.” Her hand raised as if to bridge the awkward gap of rustled silence. She pulled a neat case from her bag and opened it on the table as their meal arrived. “I know it’s not exactly first date etiquette and it may well ruin the illusion of,” she gestured towards her face, not wanting to say anything alluding to the ‘beauty’ Greg had mentioned earlier, “and I know it’s not usual practice to get the sweats and reading glasses out before the, I don’t know, 10th date, but this romantic lighting isn’t doing wonders for my vision so… Ummm.” She slipped on the hornrimmed frames that held the thick prescription glass she always needed after long day or in the midst of excessive paperwork or a captivating novel. 

“Wow.”

“Yeah, they’re a little ugly, but what can you do with a genetic history like mine?”

“No, I mean. Wow, if I didn’t have a thing for woman in glasses, I certainly do now.” 

“Really?”

“Molly Hooper, you have to start believing that you’re sexy, uhum.” His voice had turned slightly gruff, but his way with words that had worked so well on his (ex-)wife all those years ago seemed to maintain its spark.

* * *

The blush that rose up Molly’s slender neck tinting the hue of her cheeks was interrupted by the abrupt ring of her phone. The upbeat tune of 32 year-old-teenagers singing rock, in the style of pop, filled their ears.

“It’s okay Molls, John warned me of the mid-dinner Sherlock ‘I need you in the morgue’ call.” 

“He did?” 

“Yep, in fact I just received a text from said man simply saying ‘sorry’. Get it, it could be important.” 

“If I think about it, whenever it’s in the midst of a date, it’s rarely important. He’s just too stubborn to work with Max.” She clicked the little green button glaring from her phone’s screen and put it to her ear. 

“Uh huh. Yeah… No, Sherlock. You can’t sweet talk me into coming in. I’m enjoying myself. Yes with Lestrade. I’m not coming to that dingy place now, and don’t try to persuade me, if you call again I’m sure the gorgeous man opposite me would love to arrest you without the privilege of a phone call.”

Her one sided phone call with the imposing detective instilled pride in Greg, and spread a smug grin across his face as he nodded along with Molly’s threat. Her voice had been so strong on the phone, but as she slipped her now silent mobile into her bag the nerves she had been holding back somewhat flooded her system and her awkward nature came a little into full fruition. She couldn’t quite look up and the beaming man who’s focus was solely upon her bashfully lowered head. 

Speaking at her bowl of linguini. “I know that sounded a little rude, I don’t try to be rude, but he just pushes it out of me and I wanted this date to go well and I don’t want it to end, and now I’ve ruined it anyway. Sorry. Oh sorry I’m rambling. I do that when I’m nervous.” She glanced up to catch a glimpse of bright white teeth, and crinkled corners of eyes.

“He’s a git, that was tame in comparison to the choice words I’d have used.”

They fell back into that comfortable blanket of silence, Greg’s hand rested on top of Molly’s in the centre of the table and getting there had only caused two minor water spills and a high pitched squeak that was oddly converted into a giggle on Molly’s behalf.

* * *

Dinner and dessert passed with no more excitement than muffled conversation and the almost hidden blushes of Pathologist and Inspector alike. Of course exiting the restaurant and escorting Molly home was another story altogether, the mismatched attempt at hand holding, which had resolved in spins and twirls and stumbles from the pair, at least there weren’t enough people to make it horrendously embarrassing. And when they finally reached the door that lead to Molly’s quaint little flat, filled with ghastly wallpaper and grumpy cats, as they whispered sweet words of ‘tonight was amazing, I wish it wouldn’t end.’ Or ‘you’re amazing, go out with me again?’s. They leaned in for a gentle brush of lips, the three nose bumped attempts lead to stuttering and blushes but didn’t stop the kiss, the wave goodbye and the contented sighs.

* * *

_I’m an idiot and he still kissed me._

* * *

_I’m arse and she still kissed me?_


End file.
